


Incendio

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Gore, Horror, Inferi, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Violence, but not Harry or Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:26:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3244538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Incendio. It’s the only spell that matters anymore - it’s the only thing that kills the Inferi. All else they can do is run, hide, and say prayers that are never answered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incendio

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Until the End of Everything and All](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/94964) by pretty_panther. 



_Prologue_

Harry hadn’t known what to make of Draco joining the Order at first. It had been Dumbledore’s wish; Draco was young, only sixteen, and a victim of circumstance. He deserved a second chance, Dumbledore said.

Dumbledore had still died, though, and Voldemort had still discovered that Draco had changed sides, which resulted in Narcissa being killed by her own sister in punishment. However, over time Harry had discovered the _real_ Draco – the one behind the arrogant and uncaring mask that he hid behind. They soon became friends, forgiving one another for their turbulent history. 

Being friends with Draco ultimately led to a lot of self-discovery for Harry regarding his sexuality. Without the animosity between them, Harry was able to look at Draco without bias, and discovered that Draco was very good looking with his high cheekbones, soft blond hair, and intense grey eyes.

Although Harry found Draco beautiful, he didn’t wonder what was under his clothes, or how their bodies would feel rubbing up against each other. He had found other males good looking, but had never desired them sexually either, so he reasoned that he couldn’t be gay. 

Harry was also aware that he wasn’t straight. When he thought about it, he had found Cho and Ginny pretty but he hadn’t wanted to sleep with them either. Having sex with any gender just didn’t interest him, and he didn’t fantasise about people the way the boys in his dorm had spoken about late at night. 

As time went on, Harry _did_ begin to fantasise about Draco, but not in the typical ways. He imagined the two of them holding hands, or cuddling under a blanket in front of a roaring fire. He wondered how it would be to kiss Draco, or to go on dinner dates at fancy restaurants. He began to wonder if it was possible to love someone without finding them sexually attractive and wanting to sleep with them. 

Draco reassured him that it was very much possible, and that Harry was perfectly normal to feel that way. Harry had chosen to confide in Draco because he felt a bit uncomfortable talking to Hermione about sex, and he didn’t think Ron would understand.

To begin with, Draco had given Harry the name of his sexuality – asexuality – which Draco knew because he had done his own research when he started to notice boys as well as girls but hadn’t realised that bisexuality was a thing. 

Draco had also told Harry that although he liked the idea of sex, he would be more than willing to be without it if he was in love with someone who didn’t want it. Draco had linked his fingers with Harry’s after that, and offered him a small, nervous smile.

A relationship between them quickly blossomed after that, although it wasn’t easy. Despite the fact Harry had envisioned all the little romantic touches that he and Draco could enjoy, he soon discovered that touch made him feel slightly uncomfortable, depending on the circumstances. It was worse when he couldn’t see Draco, or when it took him by surprise. Harry reckoned that it was a result of the lack of affection he had received growing up at the Dursleys'; he’d never had a chance to get used to it. 

It upset Harry that he couldn’t even get that part of the relationship right, especially when he made their relationship somewhat unconventional anyway. Draco said he didn’t mind, although Harry knew he did; he had seen the look of hurt on Draco’s face when Harry shied away from the touch of his hand. Harry didn’t mean to do it, he just couldn’t help himself. 

Those issues, however, soon became a lot less important when the first reports of an increase in Inferi attacks were reported on the radio. 

At first it was the odd attack here and there, and then they got more and more frequent, involving both Muggles and the magical community. There seemed to be some sort of curse, like the spell that created the Inferi had gotten out of hand – when people died, their corpses reanimated regardless of whether or not Voldemort had put the spell directly on them. 

The Inferi were ruthless, attacking without prejudice and tearing towns apart. 

It was the Inferi who were a bigger threat than Death Eaters when Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione went out into the streets and wilderness to try and find the Horcruxes. The magical community was still somewhat protected, so they had been able to break into the Ministry in relative safety to retrieve the locket; safe from Inferi, at any rate.

They managed to destroy the locket before they were finally found by Inferi. They narrowly escaped both them and the Snatchers, and realised they needed to reassemble somewhere with the remaining Order members – Bill, Fleur, Fred, George, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Remus, and Kingsley. 

That place ended up being Shell Cottage, which, though small, was very isolated and had a large amount of Protection spells on it. Voldemort would be able to break through those spells if he ever found out Harry was staying there, but they couldn’t risk staying out in the open anymore. Inferi could be kept out by charms, but they would linger around the edges, attracted by the magic. People would either end up trapped, or have to give their location away by dropping the Wards to kill the Inferi.

The small group of them agreed to help one another, with Harry telling them about the Horcruxes. They discovered that Bellatrix most likely had a Horcrux hidden in her vault, and came up with a scheme to break into Gringotts. Kingsley and Tonks had Auror knowledge to help them, while Remus had a friendship with the goblins due to the fact that goblins and werewolves were both mistreated by the Wizarding World in general. 

Bill, Fleur, George, Fred, and Mr Weasley stayed at Shell Cottage while the others went to Gringotts. Diagon Alley was all but deserted, with most people too afraid to go outside anymore. They managed to get in and out successfully, a Horcrux cup in tow.

Harry should have known it was too good to be true.

Bellatrix was waiting for them on the outside, with two Inferi magically bound behind her. She released them with an evil laugh, and it happened too fast for anyone to react. 

Harry knew he would never forget the way Hermione screamed when the Inferius bit down on her neck, and nor would he forget Ron’s roar of grief before he jumped onto the Inferius to pull it off Hermione, only to be dragged back by the second.

It had only been Draco holding Harry back that saved his life; he had been ready to jump in, to fight with his bare hands to try and save Ron and Hermione even though he knew it was too late for them. All thoughts of magic and spells had left his head as grief and anger overtook him. 

Remus, Tonks, and Kingsley were casting fire at the Inferi to drive them back, so Mrs Weasley had nobody to hold her back. 

Harry didn’t hear the spell that Mrs Weasley used, but it caused Bellatrix to gasp desperately for breath, clutching her throat as she struggled to breathe. Mrs Weasley, triumphant but with tears running down her cheeks, didn’t notice the Inferi coming from a torn-apart storefront, attracted by the noise.

Harry screamed, fighting desperately against Draco’s tight hold of him, but it was no use. 

Remus shouted that they needed to Apparate back to Shell Cottage, and even when Draco Apparated them back there, the images of Ron, Hermione, Mrs Weasley, and even Bellatrix dying remained imprinted in his mind.

After that day, the remaining Order members quickly disappeared. Fleur took the grieving Weasleys to France; she offered a place for Harry, but he needed to stay behind for the Horcruxes, and Draco insisted on staying with Harry. Remus never returned after leaving for the full moon one night, and the day after Tonks left to find Remus, they found her corpse wandering aimlessly about in a nearby forest, recognisable only by her ever colour-changing hair that seemed to be stuck in a loop.

Kingsley was murdered by a Death Eater, sacrificing himself so that Harry and Draco could live. The Death Eater burnt Shell Cottage to the ground, and Harry and Draco were left alone with nowhere to go.

As time went on, more people died, thus more Inferi were created. 

Harry and Draco had a mission to do, Horcruxes to find and destroy. The only thing was, there wasn’t much of a world for them to save anymore.

***

“How many do you think there are?”

Draco’s voice was low and hushed, and his gaze flickered from boarded up window to boarded up window. 

“A dozen, maybe,” Harry guessed, spinning his wand in his hand. His heart was thumping madly in his chest, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of the scratching at the doors and windows. 

“Shit,” Draco muttered, taking a step closer to Harry. Harry took a deep breath, counting to five in his head. 

The Inferi couldn’t get into the house - Draco had put Wards up to stop them - but they wouldn’t leave now unless something else caught their attention. They would have to kill the Inferi eventually so that they could leave, and that would have to be soon; they were running low on food. 

“Did you see anything close-by where we can get supplies from?” Harry asked, trying to remember the way that they had come to the house. It was a fairly isolated house, set in a tiny hamlet made up of five houses. The others had been abandoned, with broken glass in place of windows and blood stains splattered up the brick walls. 

“There’s a farm shop about a couple of miles east of here,” Draco said after a moment’s consideration. Draco was good with planning and remembering important details; Harry’s skill was based in defensive spells and fighting. They made a good team, but that didn’t change the fact that they were only two people in a world where the enemy was vast. 

Harry checked his watch. “It’s a couple of hours until dawn,” he stated. “I know it won’t be much better, but at least we’ll have a bit of sunlight on our side.” 

The sunlight was never enough to stop the Inferi completely, though. Dementors had bred and moved freely throughout the country, and though they were not a problem for Harry and Draco, who had both mastered a Corporeal Patronus, they did cause a constant light-blocking mist that the Inferi thrived in. 

It was a shame, really, that they couldn’t Apparate to where they wanted to be, but it was impossible to tell whether the destination would be overrun with Inferi, which wasn’t a risk worth taking. 

Draco nodded in agreement, though lines of anxiety were etched onto his face. He had dark circles under his eyes, which only made his sunken cheeks stand out even more. Harry knew he looked the same way; it was hard to find food anymore. 

“They won’t be able to get in,” Harry said slowly, sinking to the floor against a wall. 

Draco took a seat beside him, letting his hand rest as close to Harry’s as he could without actually touching it. “If more come I don’t want to wait. There could be five times as many by dawn.” 

Draco didn’t need to say that they’d never be able to take them all on. 

They sat in silence. Draco’s eyes had drifted shut but Harry knew he wasn’t asleep. It was impossible to sleep peacefully anymore, as they had to be on alert at all times. 

When weak streams of light began to streak through the cracks in the wooden blockade on the window, Harry gave Draco a nudge.

Alert grey eyes snapped open suddenly, and Harry regretted getting Draco’s attention so roughly. Still, they had both been woken up to far worse situations before. 

“The sun’s coming up now,” Harry informed Draco, scrambling to his feet. His legs ached from the tense position he had been sitting in, and he shook them to get a bit of life back into them. “No more Inferi have come.”

“I’ll take the left if you take the right,” Draco said, twirling his own wand in his fingers. 

Harry nodded in agreement, and after picking up their rucksacks they walked together to the front door. Glancing at Draco for confirmation, which was given with a subtle nod, Harry kicked the door open while Draco removed the Ward from the building. 

Stepping out into the freezing air, there was a moment where nothing happened. Inferi were ruthless and vicious, but they were not intelligent, so it took them a moment to realise that two living souls were there for the taking. But after that moment passed, they were almost upon Harry and Draco in an instant.

“Incendio!” 

They both cast the spell simultaneously, standing back to back. Harry’s hand shook as he aimed the fire over the rotten, walking corpses, causing the creatures to shriek as they were devoured by flames. It was one advantage of the Inferis' ruthlessness and determination that they would not stop trying to attack, even when faced with their biggest weakness. 

Beads of sweat collected on Harry’s forehead as the magical fire heated the air around them. His nose crinkled at the horrid smell of burning, decaying flesh; it was something he would never be able to get used to.

Finally the thundering footsteps and the gasping breaths faded, and Harry knew that the Inferi were gone. He stopped the spell, stepping forwards and kicking the piles of ash into the wind.

When he turned around, Draco was watching him impassively. 

“We should get moving,” Draco said simply, sliding his wand back in its holster around Draco’s thigh. “We might have attracted something else.”

Harry nodded in agreement. Inferi weren’t the only things they needed to worry about. Death Eaters and Snatchers were still roaming the wilderness, searching for any survivors who might have fled into the countryside to escape the hordes of Inferi in the built-up towns and cities. 

They didn’t speak much while they walked, as they needed to keep their wits about them. They had learnt to easily and quickly recognise the grunt of the Inferi, the snapping of twigs, or the rustling of robes against the wind. The only sound that they wanted to hear was the crunching of the frosty ground beneath their feet.

They made it to the farm shop without interruption - the lingering magic and fire would have attracted any unwanted attention in the opposite direction.

The door to the farm shop was ajar, which didn’t bode well. It either meant that Inferi had gotten inside, or that fellow survivors had already ransacked the place.

Judging from the mostly empty shelves that greeted them as they stepped inside, it was the latter that had happened. Harry didn’t mind too much though - the remaining fruit was rotten and didn’t look appealing at all.

“I’ll check it’s empty,” Harry murmured, sliding his wand from its holster. “Watch the door.”

Draco nodded, his wand ready in hand. 

Harry checked behind the till and counter and in the store cupboard, and was pleased to note that it was clear. The door to the staff room was locked, but if Harry couldn’t get in, it meant nothing other than the living could get out. 

“Clear,” Harry shouted, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders when Draco shut the front door and cast a simple Ward over it. 

“There must be something edible left in here,” Draco murmured quietly as he started to study the shelves. He picked up a lump of cheese, sniffing it and pulling a face. “This is disgusting.”

“Definitely,” Harry agreed as he grimaced at the sight of a mouldy bread display. His eyes narrowed in on a couple of jars that had been left on a display meant to hold much more. “Strawberry jam,” he read aloud as he studied the jars. “This should be fine. It’s homemade.”

“Mother used to make jam,” Draco said with a sigh as he strode over to Harry. 

Harry unscrewed the lid and dipped his finger in, lapping up the sweet preserve. 

“How is it?” Draco asked, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

“Lovely,” Harry answered, and he meant it. It wasn’t substantial or nutritious by any means, but it was food, and sweet food at that. Harry hadn’t had sugar in a _long_ time, and if he could, he’d happily eat the entire jar.

As it was, they needed to ration any food they did find. He allowed Draco to dip his fingers into the jar for a taste before he screwed the lid back on.

“Wow, I’ve missed this,” Draco said longingly as he licked his fingers clean. “Not as good as Mother’s, but it will do.”

“Shall we take them all?” 

There were only three jars left on the shelf, and Draco nodded.

“Might as well.” Draco shrugged, pulling the other two jars into his rucksack which he had shrugged off his shoulder. “There doesn’t seem to be any Muggles left around here.”

Harry didn’t bother to point out that surviving Muggles might stumble across the farm shop, just as they had. Draco would argue that it was every man for himself now, and Harry couldn’t deny that he would have a point. 

They scouted the rest of the store, but couldn’t find anything worth taking. It was getting harder and harder to find supplies as time went on. They would have to start living off the land soon enough, but they were avoiding that route because neither of them knew what was poisonous or not. And it was better to go hungry than be dead, because at least hunger didn’t turn them into one of the Inferi. 

“We should get going soon,” Draco said from behind Harry. 

Not having expected him to speak, Harry jumped, and Draco instinctively placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder to calm him down. 

Instantly, Harry’s mind flashed over with images of rotten fingers and yellow nails attached to a snarling corpse. Fear washed over Harry, even as Draco quickly withdrew his hand. 

“It’s just me, Harry,” Draco said hurriedly, moving to stand in front of Harry. “Come on, deep breaths.”

Harry nodded shakily, trying to calm his breathing and his beating heart. He slid to the floor, clutching a hand to his chest. He knew it was wrong, being afraid of his only living companion and love, but the Inferi had ingrained fear into every aspect of his life and into every fibre of his being. 

He sat for a few minutes, silent, trying to catch his breath back. Draco was crouched beside him, a look of concern etched on his face all the while. 

“Alright?” Draco asked after a bit of time had passed, taking a quick glance at the windows. At least Draco understood Harry’s fear of touch - it was easy to understand now, living in a world like theirs.

Harry nodded, clambering to his feet.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, offering Draco a small smile. “Let’s get going.”

After all, they had a long way to go to get to Hogwarts and the next Horcrux.

***

Harry breathed in deeply as he splashed cold water from the river onto his face.

Though the water was icy cold, Harry longed to submerge himself in it, though that was doubtlessly a bad idea. All he had time for was a quick wash and freshen up - it wouldn’t be wise to be naked, wet, and frozen, with Inferi potentially around the corner.

Instead, Harry stripped one item of clothing off at a time, replacing it before moving onto the next piece. 

As he couldn’t really use Scouring Charms as they tended to attract Inferi, Harry debated washing his clothes in the river but decided against it because he had been away from Draco long enough now. 

They didn’t wear much; tight jeans tucked into boots - dangling hems were a massive tripping hazard - and a short sleeved, tight fitting top, because long sleeves could be trapped in doorways or grabbed by Inferi. Death Eaters hadn’t learnt yet that robes were one of the worst items to wear around Inferi - or perhaps Voldemort wouldn’t allow them to dress Muggle. Either way, Inferi had saved Harry and Draco from robe-wearing Death Eaters on at least two occasions. 

Harry shivered as cold wind rushed over him and stung his skin, and he wrapped his arms around himself for warmth. Draco had already been down to the river, and should have a fire going by now back at the camp.

With the pleasant image of warming his hands in front of the fire, Harry made his way back to Draco. 

As Harry got nearer their camp, a delicious smell started to get stronger and stronger.

Draco was sat in front of the fire, with two fish cooking on a makeshift pan. 

“I made dinner,” Draco said with a smile as he looked up at Harry approaching. Harry hadn’t missed the brief look of alarm that had been on Draco’s face before he had realised who it was. 

“And you didn’t burn it,” Harry commented lightly, taking a seat on the hard ground beside Draco. Sometimes they had to forgo comfort to save using magic. 

“I am quite adept at cooking in the wilderness, I’ll have you know,” Draco retorted, pulling the pan away from the fire. 

A branch snapped somewhere nearby, and both their heads twisted round in the direction of the noise. A lonely deer trotted past, having not noticed them behind the Wards. Harry hated it when they had to sleep in woodland - nature made too much noise - but at times it was unavoidable. 

Draco picked up one of the fish, hissing when the hot skin burnt his fingers. Draco dropped it onto a battered book that they were using for a plate, and passed it over to Harry. 

“Thank you,” Harry said, picking the fish apart and relishing the way it heated his fingers in a not-quite unbearable way. He almost had the first piece to his mouth before he remembered something important. “You don’t like fish.” 

Draco paused from eating his own meal. “We have to eat,” he said simply, keeping his eyes downcast and tearing the fish apart with his fingers.

“There’s rabbits around,” Harry pointed out. They had been forced to kill animals for food on many occasions now - so much so that it didn’t bother Harry anymore; not much, at least.

Draco shrugged, and Harry knew why Draco had chosen fish - it was Harry’s favourite, and Draco knew that.

“Thank you, Draco,” Harry said again. Despite the uncomfortable tingling in his hand, he reached out to link his fingers with Draco’s. He ignored the voice in his head, sounding suspiciously like Aunt Petunia’s, that told him he wasn’t allowed to hold hands, and instead focused on offering Draco a reassuring smile. 

Draco squeezed his fingers and smiled back. 

They sat in a comfortable silence until suddenly it wasn’t comfortable and the silence became deafening; Harry quickly pulled his hand back, but Draco didn’t look upset or irritated. Harry himself thought that he had done quite well there. 

They chatted lightly about food and water and shelter while they ate, and when they had finished, Draco double checked the Wards while Harry set up their sleeping quarters.

They had stumbled across a handmade den earlier in the day, built up with sticks and covered with leaves, and decided it would be the best they were likely to get considering they wouldn’t make it to a town by nightfall. 

Harry pulled a blanket from his rucksack and laid it upon the ground, folding up another to be used for a bedcover once they were ready. He positioned their rucksacks so they could be used as pillows, before shifting some large sticks and branches they had collected to build up a wall protecting them from view. 

Harry stopped his building to allow Draco to clamber into the den, and then resumed, building until they were closed off. There was enough gap that they could make a quick escape if they needed to, but Draco’s Wards had never failed against Inferi before. 

Harry took the first watch while Draco slept. He was quite content to watch Draco sleep - it was beautiful to see someone at peace - but then the noises started. 

It started as twigs snapping and leaves rustling, and then there were heavy, shuffling footsteps and inhuman grunting. Harry closed his eyes briefly and wished he hadn’t, as he was hit by images of masses of Inferi collecting around the Wards, with wild, black hair and wicked eyes. Bellatrix’s cruel laughter echoed in his head as he listened to the Inferi outside the Wards, who were waiting patiently to get the flesh behind the magical barrier.

Draco whimpered in his sleep, mouth turning into a frown as though he had sensed Harry’s unease, and perhaps he had. Harry raised a trembling hand - he hadn’t realised he was shaking until then - and brushed Draco’s hair away from his forehead soothingly.  
***

They spent three nights in the forest, waiting out Inferi and the odd surviving Muggle. Though it was unwise to use magic, Harry and Draco did have to use it when necessary, and Muggles didn’t take well to anything out of the ordinary, especially given the current world situation. It was better that they kept themselves separated, rather than trying to help. 

It was a relief to finally make it out of the forest. Despite the fact that there were gaps in the treetops that let through sunlight, it felt a lot brighter once they were clear of the trees, even with the constant foggy mist. 

Harry drew his wand out, placing it flat in the palm of his hand. “Point me,” he said, watching as the wand span around until it pointed in the direction they needed to go. 

Harry glanced at Draco, who nodded in agreement, before putting his wand back in its holster. 

They moved quickly, lest the navigation spell attracted any Inferi. Less complex skills which didn’t require much magic were less likely to create invisible ripples big enough to attract Inferi that they couldn’t already see, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Nothing was worth the risk anymore.

“There’s a signpost,” Draco said after they had spent several minutes walking down an empty country road. He checked the surroundings before hurrying over to it while Harry kept watch. “The next village is a couple of miles up, according to this.”

Harry focused on the road, trying to see if he could make out any signs of houses or perhaps a church, but of course his attempts were in vain; he had never had brilliant eyesight, and the fog and mist only made it worse. 

“If it’s a big enough town,” Harry said, as they began walking up the road, “there might be a Tourist Information Centre where we can get a proper map from.”

So far they were relying on signposts and trail posts - the countryside trail from Land’s End to John O’Groats had been the most useful so far in their attempt to get from Devon to Scotland. 

“I don’t understand Muggle maps,” Draco grumbled, as he was wont to do whenever he was required to use something very Muggle. Although he had got over the prejudices that had been ingrained in him during childhood, Draco still believed the magical community to be far more advanced. “There’s so many squares and unnecessary lines.”

“I can read a map,” Harry said, fixing Draco with a small smile. 

“That’s what you said about the compass,” Draco muttered under his breath, an amused smirk twisting the corners of his mouth.

“I didn’t know we had magnets in our bag,” Harry shot back defensively. Draco had found some magnets and found them quite fascinating, and so had put them in the rucksack with the compass, not knowing that they would affect it. 

“Compasses are overly complicated anyway,” Draco said hotly, waving a hand in dismissal. “The charm you use has done us fine, so far.”

Harry was about to reluctantly agree, but he stopped as the faint smell of burning reached him. He slid his wand out of its holster, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Draco do the same.

The smell grew stronger and stronger as they continued towards the town, and Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach that it wasn’t simply a few Inferi that had been recently burnt. 

Draco gasped as the town came into view, and Harry felt as though he had been dunked in ice cold water before having his heart cruelly torn from his chest. 

Where there should have been houses upon houses, rows of cars, and overgrown gardens, there was black ash and debris scattered as far as the eye could see. A few dead plants remained, with the branches bare and drooping. The remains of the brick buildings were scorched and crumbling apart.

The stench was unbearable, and Harry pulled his top over his nose as he tried to comprehend the sight. The whole town was gone, burnt to nothingness, and there was no way Muggles were to blame.

From the little Harry knew, the spell Voldemort had used to create the Inferi had gotten out of control, and now his Death Eaters were unable to cope. While Voldemort holed himself away somewhere safe, Death Eaters roamed the lands trying to take back control. Harry knew that they were ruthless with their fire, but he had never seen anything quite like what he was seeing now.

Overcome with grief and anger, Harry howled, sinking to the floor and punching the ground. His knuckles came back black, and he clenched his fingers tightly as he felt dampness at his eyes. Not everyone in the town might have been dead before the Death Eaters arrived; there could have been survivors locked away and safe, until the Death Eaters granted them an even worse fate than death by Inferi.

Harry was surprised when he glanced behind him and saw that Draco was openly crying, not even brushing away the tears when he caught Harry looking. While Harry was open with his emotions, and let them out whenever they were too much, Draco was normally very stoic and collected. The only time Draco ever cried was at night when he thought that Harry was asleep. 

“We need to go,” Harry said quietly, getting to his feet and swiping his eyes. 

“Not yet,” Draco argued sharply, and suddenly it was like he had never been crying. “There might be something useful left. This couldn’t...this couldn’t have all been for nothing,” he added, gesturing towards the ruins of the town. 

Harry didn’t know quite what to say. It felt wrong, trespassing on what was now essentially a graveyard, but at the same time, they needed supplies. Death was harsh but unavoidable, especially in their world now; what mattered was surviving. Harry settled for nodding.

Harry felt nauseous as they gingerly began looking through the remains. Closer up, they could see charred corpses and scratches on doorways where survivors had no doubt been trying to escape the flames. Sadness welled up in Harry again, and he longed to punch anything - anything that could hurt. 

In the end, they managed to scavenge a few tins of food that had survived the fire, a kitchen knife, and a pen. It wasn’t much, but all of it could come in useful. 

One odd thing they did notice was a corpse several feet away from what looked like a family huddling together. The corpse on its own had a blade sticking out of its skull, and when Harry pulled it back the tip was covered in brain matter - he couldn’t help but pull a face at that. 

“What does it mean?” Draco asked in a hushed town. “Does destroying the brain stop it?”

“Muggles think so,” Harry whispered back, remembering the horror movies that Dudley had loved watching. 

“Shame we don’t know whether the blade or the fire killed it,” Draco muttered, nudging the body with his foot. 

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know, we could test it when we see one on its own.”

“Or we could not,” Draco said sternly. “Why risk our lives when we know a way that will _definitely_ kill them?”

“Alright.” Draco smiled, and Harry was glad to please him.

***

The following days passed in much the same way.

There was a lot of walking, with a bit of scavenging here and there, and also quite a lot of hiding. Harry and Draco had got quite adept at that over time.

They had chosen to get off the main road and back onto the countryside trails, because there were less Inferi and more places to stop themselves being seen. They tended to leave whenever they came close to a village so that they could search for supplies or find a safe house for a night. 

The weather had been getting colder, however, which was starting to cause a few problems. Heating Charms used too much magic which drew Inferi to them, and so they had resorted to wearing whatever jackets or coats they could find, which never fitted quite as well as they needed them to. 

It was also too cold to camp outside anymore, unless they wanted to risk frostbite or hypothermia, which meant that they had to find a secure, indoor shelter each night, which wasn’t always easy.

One morning, Harry woke and was immediately aware of an arm across his body. Instantly Harry thought of the Inferi grabbing at him, clawing at him, dragging him to death. Bellatrix’s crazed, rotting face jumped at the front of his mind, and he leapt up with a yell, shoving the arm away from him in the process.

It was only Draco’s sleepy, muffled groan of confusion that made Harry realise the truth. Guilt washed over Harry, and he dropped to his knees beside Draco who was now wide awake and looking around with scared eyes.

“Shit, Draco, I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly, raising his hand to touch Draco’s before drawing it back quickly. After a brief internal debate, Harry settled for lightly resting his hand on Draco’s, attempting desperately to ignore his pounding heart. “Your arm was around me and I panicked; I thought…” 

He trailed off, feeling too ashamed to put what he meant into words, but Draco nodded understandingly. He even looked guilty, which made Harry feel even worse.

“I’m sorry,” Draco mumbled quietly, sitting up and arching his back. “I must have been cold during the night, I know you don’t like it-”

“I’m sorry,” Harry interrupted, looking down and drawing his hand back to his body. “You should have never been left with someone like me, someone who’s afraid of being touched. The no sex was one thing, but this-”

“Is something I don’t care about,” Draco finished. “I don’t mean I don’t care about your fear - of course I do - but I don’t care that I can’t touch you. I love you, Harry, and I love you as you are.”

Harry thought this would be the moment where most couples would happily embrace and kiss passionately, but Harry didn’t want to do that. Instead he met Draco’s gaze and smiled a smile that was purely happiness and love. 

“I love you, too,” he said, and Draco’s smile matched the intensity of Harry’s. 

“Besides,” Draco said after a moment had passed, smirking, “you aren’t all that bad to look at either. You’re pretty easy on the eyes, you know.”

Harry grinned, about to retort, when a voice shouting outside the hut they were in caught his attention. Inferi couldn’t speak.

They glanced at one another before jumping up and hurrying over to the window, where a man in Death Eater robes was attempting to pull their Wards apart. Ashes and lingering flames surrounded him - the remnants of the Inferi from the night.

“Do you recognise him?” Harry asked, watching as Draco shook his head.

“It’s hard to tell,” Draco answered, narrowing his eyes as he watched the man outside. “He can’t have been too high up in the ranks though, if he’s taking this long trying to take down my Wards. What do you reckon we should do?”

Harry shrugged. “I doubt he’ll know who we are at the moment; all he’ll know is that there’s wizards here.”

“He’s going to attract more Inferi,” Draco pointed out, and as if on cue, the man’s head whipped round to the treeline as if he had heard a noise, before turning back to the Wards to try and dismantle them even more frantically. 

Harry opened his mouth to say that they should really help - stun him, perhaps, and leave him in the hut while they escaped - but Draco cut him off.

“I know what you’re thinking, Harry, and no. He can die for all I care.” Draco’s expression was stern, and his eyes were filled with hatred. Despite Harry’s ties to Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Draco hated them more. After seeing his father ruin his family’s lives, and witnessing his mother’s murder, Draco despised Voldemort, his followers, and their cause, even more than he hated the Inferi. Inferi had no choice, Draco often said.

The man was looking over his shoulder every few seconds now, working desperately with his wand but it was to no avail. Inferi came stumbling out of the trees, mouths snapping up and down as they stampeded towards the man, hungry to devour him.

“Draco,” Harry breathed, but Draco didn’t answer him, holding his arm in front of the window.

“Don’t look,” Draco said firmly, but Harry didn’t want to look away. Draco’s arm covered a lot of what was happening, but Harry could hear the wild screams of the man, the snarling of the Inferi, and he could see flesh flying through the air as the Inferi tore the man apart.

Harry couldn’t take it anymore, dropping to his knees and dry-heaving, thankful for his empty stomach. 

Draco hesitated for a brief second before crouching down beside Harry and hovering a hand above his shoulder. Harry looked up at him and - cautiously - nodded. It was Draco, Harry knew. He kept his eyes on Draco as the blond lowered his hand, gently squeezing Harry’s shoulder in a mark of comfort before drawing it away.

“I won’t push you,” Draco mumbled, standing back at full height. “We can go out the back while they’re eating.”

Draco said it so nonchalantly, that if Harry hadn’t known better he might have thought Draco was impassive to the whole thing. However, Harry did know Draco, and he knew that Draco hated the way he was now. He had heard Draco shouting in his sleep, spilling his inner demons - Harry knew that he did the same thing, too. 

Harry didn’t hate the way Draco was, because he understood Draco’s feelings. He knew hatred, rage, and bitterness, and if Draco could accept Harry the way he was, then Harry would accept Draco. They were both messed up, but they were messed up together.

He looked at Draco again, and rose to his feet.

“Let’s go.”

That night when Harry heard Draco crying, he pretended he didn’t hear it, because he knew that was how Draco wanted it.

***

Harry sat with his back against the wall, listening to Draco’s soft breathing and the snowflakes outside hitting the window with light splats.

A lone candle in front of Harry was the only source of light, barely illuminating the dark room. Harry had a blanket wrapped around him for warmth, and he rubbed at his sore arm absent-mindedly. 

They had had a close call with the Inferi earlier. They had been chased into a wooded area, and as it had been dark and the ground was covered in snow, Harry hadn’t seen a particularly long and thick tree root sticking out of the ground. He had tripped over it and landed on his arm and shoulder, though thankfully they didn’t seem to be broken.

Harry hadn’t been able to think or move when he saw the Inferi nearly upon him, but then there was a flash of fire and Draco was hauling Harry to his feet and pulling him into a run. Harry had been so dazed he had just gone along with it, not truly realising how close he had come to dying until they were out of danger.

Fortunately they had found an abandoned house to spend the night in, quite close by to the edge of the forest. The windows were all boarded up, although the smashed-in door and blood splatters in the hallway suggested the Muggles hadn’t made it in the end. Magic fixed the door, though, and Draco had put the usual Wards up.

Harry’s eyes dropped closed, then snapped open again. His body was close to exhaustion but he didn’t want to sleep. His nightmares were always worse when he had been so close to the Inferi, haunting him in his sleep. 

But he was sore and so very tired, and it was getting harder and harder for Harry to keep his eyes open. Eventually, unwillingly, his eyes wouldn’t stay open anymore and he fell into a restless sleep. 

He dreamt of Bellatrix again, and the way she laughed as Hermione and Ron were torn apart. He dreamt that she was outside the window, her rotting face looking in at him, just waiting to devour his flesh. 

Harry woke suddenly, jerking forwards with a scream on his lips. Inferi groaned outside the house and Wards, and Draco was awake and alert in an instant. 

“Nightmare?”

Harry nodded, and Draco looked at him sympathetically.

“We’re safe in here,” Draco breathed, crawling over so that he was next to Harry. “Bellatrix isn’t here - I doubt she exists anymore.”

Harry had never told Draco that he dreamt about Bellatrix, but he knew that he screamed words in his sleep. Ron, too, had learnt a lot about Harry through listening to his nightmares.

“I know.” Harry yawned, and tugged his blanket tighter around his body. “They were so close today; they-”

“They won’t get us, Harry,” Draco said seriously, looking into Harry’s eyes intently. “Lay down; go to sleep.”

“The nightmares will come back,” Harry whispered into the darkness, though his body was already sliding down the wall into a more comfortable position. He turned onto his side, and Draco did the same so that they were facing one another. “Why is it so hard to be brave?”

“You are the bravest person I know, Harry, but bravery doesn’t mean absence of fear. You need sleep,” Draco stated simply. “You can have nightmares, or you can have the real thing if and when you go out there with lack of sleep. But if you choose the nightmares, I’ll be right here to make sure you’re ok when you wake up.”

In a surge of confidence, Harry reached out and grasped Draco’s hands with his. Maybe it was from being this close, or from the warmth and love of Draco’s words, that Harry couldn’t bear to let him go. This what was he had always wanted - to hold Draco’s hands and fall asleep in a tight embrace - the latter he wasn’t quite ready for yet - but it was a start. 

“Harry, are you-?” Draco started to say, but Harry cut him off, leaning in so that their foreheads were almost touching.

“I’m ok like this for now,” Harry said softly, squeezing Draco’s fingers gently. He allowed his other hand to trail down Draco’s arm slightly until they found the pulsepoint on his waist. The heavy beat thrummed against Harry’s fingers, though Harry reckoned most of the noise was in his head, and it reminded Harry that Draco was _alive_.

As Harry started to drift off into sleep, there was a moment or two where he would forget Draco but still feel his fingers, which set off the beginnings of panic, but he was brought back to safety by Draco’s soothing voice, telling him that everything was going to be alright.

Harry had never slept so soundly.

***

Draco was in a mood.

Harry could tell, because Draco’s footsteps were heavier than usual and he was walking at a quick pace that Harry found difficult to keep up with.

As far as Harry knew, he hadn’t done anything to upset Draco. They had spent the last couple of days on the road, suffering with the cold and lack of sleep, so it was more likely that it was that which had gotten to Draco. They were both caught in bad moods a lot; living in a world like theirs took a toll on their emotional health.

“Draco,” Harry hissed, “slow down. Is something wrong?”

Draco stopped so suddenly that Harry very nearly walked into him. 

“Yes, Harry, something’s wrong!” Draco snarled, spinning round to face Harry, who instinctively took a step back. “Have you not been paying attention to any of the signposts?”

“Er, vaguely.” Draco fixed him with an intense look, as though the signposts were incredibly important to him. “The last place name I recognised was Bristol.”

“Exactly!” Draco folded his arms across his chest, casting a look around before focusing his attention on Harry. “Do you know how long we’ve been on the road since we learnt that there was a Horcrux at Hogwarts?” Harry shook his head, and Draco pulled a scrap of parchment from his pocket, filled with tally lines. “Sixty one days. We have gone literally nowhere in sixty one days; do you know how far we have to go to get to Hogsmeade? And what happens when we finally get there? There’ll be Death Eaters and Inferi _everywhere_ , not to mention that we don’t even know what the Horcrux is.”

“Yeah, but I can recognise the Horcrux for what it is when I see it,” Harry argued. “And I’m sure we’ll find a way in once we get there.”

“ _If_ we get there,” Draco retorted. “I just don’t see the point of it anymore. We’re struggling enough as it is, so why are we so damned determined to go on this suicide mission? Voldemort’s won anyway. He’s hidden away somewhere safe, laughing, while the country burns alive like he’s always wanted. Why do Horcruxes matter anymore?”

“Because, Draco,” Harry said firmly, double checking they were still alone before he continued, “I’m still alive. Voldemort believes that I’m the only one who can defeat him, which means he won’t be satisfied until I’m dead. If we get rid of the Horcruxes, at least then I have some hope of defeating him and staying alive.”

Draco hung his head, hunching his shoulders. “He’d have a hard job finding you.”

“But he could if he wanted,” Harry pointed out. “What else do we have to do anyway? All we do is run, hide, and pray even though there’s nobody listening. Finding the Horcruxes is a goal; it gives us a reason to live.”

“You’re my reason to live,” Draco cut back quickly, which made Harry’s heart leap.

“And you’re mine,” Harry smiled. “So...if you really want to stop-”

“No,” Draco cut in. “You’re right. Voldemort will find you eventually, and we need to be prepared. I refuse to lose you. 

“You won’t,” Harry promised; he long ago promised himself that he would make sure Draco lived, but he knew now that Draco didn’t want to live a life if Harry wasn’t in it. 

Harry had lost a lot of his loved ones in his life, and Draco was the only one remaining and the one he loved the most. They were in this together - there would be two of them, or there would be none.

***

One good thing had come out of their argument - Harry and Draco had both become a lot more relaxed in regards to their journey to Scotland. Although they had agreed that they would still go there, a compromise had been made that they wouldn’t rush and treat it as the sole most important thing. _They_ came first, Draco said, and they should make the most of their lives while they were still breathing.

Of course, it didn’t mean that living had actually become any easier. They were still being chased by Inferi and receiving injuries from tripping over the rough terrain. They were still starving, both far too thin to keep their energy up or stay warm, but they coped as best as they could.

They would sit side by side at night, doubling up their blankets and wrapping them around their forms. When Harry felt comfortable, they would hold hands and lean into one another, which Harry always imagined their relationship would have been like if the Inferi outbreak hadn’t happened. Harry wouldn’t have had a reason to fear touch, and he would have simply gotten used to it over time after the lack of it during his childhood. They could have gone on fancy dinner dates, gone to the zoo or a Muggle theme park, and cheered on their favourite team at Quidditch. Their friends would have been alive, too, and together they could have taken down Voldemort and lived in peace, happy and content.

But instead the world had gone to shit. 

The latest safehouse they had found was a farmhouse, isolated with flat fields surrounding it. The fences surrounding it gave them plenty of open space, and gave Draco something to Ward further away from the house, meaning they couldn’t be trapped inside, although the house was Warded, too, just as an extra precaution. The cupboards were fully stocked, as was the fridge - though most of the food in it had expired - and the house had running water. 

The only downside had been discovering the family in the bathroom, who were long dead with bullet holes in their heads. They hadn’t turned into Inferi, which fed into Draco and Harry’s suspicions that a destroyed brain meant no reanimating, but they Levitated the corpses outside and burnt them anyway, just to be safe. 

“We could stay here for a while,” Draco had said. “A couple of days, a week, a month...or as long as the Wards stay up and the Inferi stay out.”

So far they had stayed three nights, and Harry had to admit that it was nice to just stay somewhere relatively safe and comforting. The itch to go out and destroy the Horcruxes was still there, but they had been on the run and out in the open for so long that Harry wasn’t ready to leave just yet. A safehouse like this one was very hard to find.

Harry was currently enjoying a lukewarm shower. It would have been nicer if the water had been warmer, but it was far better than hurried washes in freezing river water. 

Harry’s eyes fell shut as he massaged the Muggle shampoo into his hair. He felt like he could stay under the stream of water forever, but he didn’t want to leave Draco alone for too long. It was never good to underestimate a situation, even if it was supposedly safe.

So it was with great reluctance that he finished his shower, dressing himself in clean clothes for the first time in weeks. He walked to the bedroom, still running the towel through his hair, when he heard Draco make a strange noise.

Harry’s fingers went numb and he dropped the towel, running and pushing the door open with Draco’s name on his lips. He looked around the room, and then immediately dropped his head and began muttering apologies under his breath.

“I thought you were still in the shower,” Draco explained, releasing the hold he had of his cock and covering his nude body with the bedsheets. 

Harry knew that Draco masturbated; even _Harry_ had masturbated, although it was very rarely and never since the Inferi outbreak happened, but Draco had bigger desires and drive than he did.

“You can finish if you want,” Harry mumbled, running a hand through his still-wet hair. “I could wait in the hall or-”

“I’m good,” Draco smirked. “You shouting my name happened at just the right time.”

“What do you…? Oh.” Harry blushed as he realised what Draco meant. Then another thought struck him. “Do you think about me?”

“Yes,” Draco answered straight away, his eyes studying Harry’s body appreciatively. “I am very much attracted to you; you’re beautiful.”

Harry squirmed as his cheeks burned. “Does it bother you that I don’t want to sleep with you?” Harry often wondered if Draco would want to spend his life in a sexless relationship. Even if Harry became unafraid and used to touch, it wouldn’t make him suddenly desire anyone - they were completely unrelated parts of him. Harry could have been sexually attracted to Draco but that wouldn’t have made touching him any easier.

“No, because it isn’t just me in particular that you don’t want to sleep with, is it?” Draco patted the bed, inviting Harry to sit down beside him. “I told you right from the start that I don’t mind if you don’t want to have sex - wanking is plenty enough for me. We have lots of fun in my fantasies, and that way you’re not doing anything you don’t want to do. I’ve never had _proper_ sex anyway, so I can’t miss what I’ve never had.”

“You could have if the Inferi hadn’t fucked everything up,” Harry pointed out. 

Draco shook his head. “You never listen to me, do you? You’re so dense; you’re lucky you’re cute.” Draco was smirking, so Harry knew there was no malice behind his words.

“You’re lucky I can cast a good Incendio spell,” he retorted, grinning.

“And you’re lucky you have me as company,” Draco shot back. 

Harry didn’t need Draco to tell him that, though; he thought it every day.

***

“They’re going to die,” Harry said frantically, waving wildly at the direction the Muggles were running in. They had heard screaming, and gone outside to investigate. The Inferi were away from the outer Wards, chasing after what looked like a family. “Draco, we have to let them in.”

“I know,” Draco hissed. “I’m not going to take all of the Wards down, though, otherwise we’re all dead. I’m waiting for a safe opening.”

“Just open it; I’ll keep the Inferi at bay,” Harry urged. The Inferi were getting closer and closer to the survivors, and Harry knew it wouldn’t be long before they caught up to them. At least at the moment they were close enough to the farm, but if they left it much longer it would be far more difficult for the family to get to safety. 

Draco looked at Harry as though he was mad, but his expression briefly softened. “I’ll give them two minutes at the most to get in, otherwise I’m putting the Wards up again.”

Draco waved his wand over a section of the outer Wards. Gold glimmered in the air as the magical barriers evaporated, and the effect distracted the Inferi momentarily. The short time it took for the Inferi to decide whether to go for fresh meat or magic wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Over here,” Draco called, while Harry cast _Incendio_ at the rampaging Inferi. 

Fire swept across the field, melting the flesh of the creatures as they snarled and lunged forwards. Their desire to eat was sometimes strong enough to override their hatred of light and fire, but as they knew no pain they couldn’t recognise that they were dying. 

The sickly stench of burning corpses quickly became overwhelming, and even when the family of survivors were at the farmhouse and the Wards were back up, the horrid smell still lingered. Harry once thought he might get used to it, but he never did. 

“Thank you, oh God, thank you,” a woman with crudely cut short hair cried, running to Draco and falling to her knees as she grasped his hands. “Thank you.”

The family consisted of four adults and two children. The short-haired woman introduced herself as Denise, and introduced the others as her husband Alan, her son Oliver, her brother Brian, her sister-in-law Linda, and her niece Caroline. Her family members all nodded and smiled in turn, thanking Harry and Draco gratefully - all except Brian, who was looking rather pale and clutching his arm which was hidden beneath several layers of clothing. 

“Is your brother alright?” Harry asked Denise as they helped serve lunch to the group. At Harry’s insistence, Draco had agreed to let the family stay for a little while until they got their composure back to together. They were obviously Muggles, so Draco and Harry would have magic on their side if the family ended up trying to steal their supplies or anything. 

“He, er, had a nasty run in with one of the zombies yesterday,” Denise said quietly, ushering Harry closer. “Got a chunk of his shoulder, but he says he’s fine. We’re keeping it quiet though; we don’t want to worry the children.”

Worrying children was the last thing on Harry’s mind. He had never actually heard of someone getting away from the Inferi with non-life-threatening injuries, but the idea didn’t sit well with Harry - or perhaps it was Brian’s ghostly white, clammy face that was making Harry feel uneasy. 

His worries were confirmed when there was a knock on Harry and Draco’s door in the middle of the night. 

“Brian’s taken a turn for the worse,” Denise said tearfully as soon as Harry opened up. “We don’t think he’s going to make it.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said automatically, shooting Draco a frenzied glance. “He can’t...I mean, Brian will-”

“Brian will become one of them when he dies,” Draco supplied, standing beside Harry at the doorway. “He can’t stay here - he’ll put us all at risk.”

Denise hung her head, sniffing and rubbing her nose with her hand. When she looked back up, her eyes were full of grief and determination. “We have a gun. Would one of you be able to…?”

Draco’s brows furrowed in confusion, but Harry knew exactly what Denise was asking of them, and his blood turned to ice in his veins.

“I-I couldn’t,” he stammered. “Would it even stop the transformation?”

Denise nodded frantically. “I’ve seen it work. One bullet in the brain and it destroys them, and stops the dead from rising. Please; he’s suffering and in pain. We’d do it ourselves, but we can’t bear to.”

Harry hated the pain in her voice. “Alright,” he found himself saying, ignoring the way Draco’s breath halted for a split-second. “But I- I don’t want any of you in the room.”

“Bless your soul, Harry,” Denise sobbed, clutching Harry’s hands and pulling them to her chest. He didn’t mention that his soul wouldn’t be pure after this. “We’ll - we’ll go say goodbye, and then you can... yeah.”

Harry felt sick as he watched her back retreating.

“Harry, you can’t-” Draco started, but Harry cut him off. 

“He’s suffering; we can’t leave him like that. Besides, if we do nothing he’ll die and come back.”

“What if the bullet in the brain doesn’t work?” Draco argued. “Or what if you hit the wrong part and we don’t realise?”

“And what happens if we do nothing?” Harry shot back. “We’re dead either way.”

Draco was quiet for a long moment. “Will you use the Killing Curse first?” he said finally, quietly. 

Harry nodded, ever-so-slightly, not daring to move any further in case it broke his carefully constructed composure. “They say it doesn’t hurt, and he won’t expect it. It will be the best way.”

Harry and Draco watched solemnly as one by one, members of the family went into Brian’s room to say their goodbyes. Brian’s daughter Caroline ran up to Harry after her visit and hugged him.

“Send him to the angels, please, Harry,” the little girl begged him, squeezing his middle tightly.

Denise’s husband passed him the gun, and somehow Harry managed to walk past the tearful faces without letting them shatter his mask. He pulled Draco’s hand onto his shoulder, because he needed to feel _something_ to keep him in reality. Really, all Harry wanted to do at that moment was float away. 

Brian was tangled in the bedsheets when Harry and Draco walked into the room. He hadn’t noticed them enter, and Harry doubted he even knew what was going on anymore. His deathly white skin was beaded in perspiration, and his wound had been uncovered.

The bite mark was massive, leaving a gaping red hole in the skin. The bone visible beneath it had turned black and rotten, and splotches of grey were spreading out and onto the skin of the arm. 

Draco’s fingers dug sharply into Harry’s shoulder, who roughly shook his arm away with a gasp.

“Sorry,” Draco said breathlessly as Harry span around. Draco was purposefully looking everywhere but at the wound, but he stepped closer to the man nonetheless. 

Harry raised his wand with a shaking hand. Brian looked towards him suddenly, gasping and arching his back as though he could sense the magic.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly, and he had never meant those words so much in his life. His arm was shaking madly, and his wand wouldn’t stay pointed at the man on the bed.

“Harry,” Draco said, reaching out to hold Harry’s wrist. The grasp tightened as Harry instinctively tried to pull away. “You’re strong; you can do this.”

With Draco’s grip steadying Harry’s aim, he had no excuse to put it off anymore, and no reason to keep the man suffering. 

Harry opened his mouth to say the spell, but all that came out was a sob. Draco’s God-like hand somehow held Harry still as he broke down into tears. Brian went still, looking at Harry as though he was seeing him for the first time. 

Harry took deep breaths, trying to get himself together just enough to say the spell. His wall had broken, but the debris was still there to build himself up enough to do what he needed to. 

Harry closed his eyes, but green light still broke into the darkness after he said the spell.

“Avada Kedavra.”

The gunshot was nothing more than an afterthought, and it didn’t drown out the sound of Bellatrix Lestrange laughing in Harry’s head.

***

Harry couldn’t stay in the farmhouse after that night.

Draco didn’t argue with him, but he didn’t really say much else either. 

The Muggle family had thanked Harry and Draco for their hospitality and left after they buried Brian by a tree. The gunshot to his head had prevented him from turning, but the discovery didn’t excite Harry like it once would have done. 

There had been a brief period while they had been in the farmhouse when Harry felt like things weren’t as bad as they had once been. He had felt more comfortable with living, and not as afraid of the world outside. Now he felt worse than he had ever done before.

Harry felt like he was dead inside, like his soul had shattered even though he had killed for a good reason - it would have been crueller to let the man carry on living until he finally died in agony. The grief he felt for taking another human’s life was all-consuming and weighed down on him heavily. Brian’s death was like an anchor tied to Harry’s heart, being dragged further and further down by Harry’s guilt.

Harry might have been able to cope a bit better, had Draco not been avoiding him. Draco had hardly said a word to Harry since that night, and floated around him like he was nothing more than a ghost.

Draco didn’t care as much about the Muggle, but he did care that they had lost the only thing they’d found that resembled safety. Draco had been happy at the farmhouse, and it was because of Harry that Draco had lost that. 

Now they were back on the road, and because they had spent several days locked away in a farmhouse, they were now more aware of the security that they’d lost. Without walls around them, Harry felt a lot more vulnerable than he once had, and every little noise had him reaching for his wand and jumping.

“I think we should find somewhere for the night; it’s getting dark,” Harry said. Draco, as expected, didn’t say anything. “There’s a village up the road from the looks of things.”

Draco still didn’t say anything, and Harry scowled. “Are you ever going to speak to me?” he snarled, and Draco stopped dead in his tracks. Harry’s anger felt liberating, and he allowed it to consume him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay at the farmhouse, but I couldn’t take it anymore. All I could see was Brian’s corpse and green light, and Bellatrix was laughing in my head _all_ of the time, and-”

“It’s fine,” Draco cut in sharply. He hadn’t turned around to face Harry, which only got Harry more irritated.

“It obviously isn’t fine!” he exclaimed, folding his arms across his chest. “You won’t even look at me!”

At that, Draco finally did turn around, and Harry wished he hadn’t. Draco looked so withdrawn and gaunt, with heavy circles underneath his eyes which stood out darkly against too-pale skin. He looked the way that Harry felt - Harry probably looked like that, too, in fact.

“I’m not doing this, Harry,” Draco said simply, turning away from him again. “You’re not in the right frame of mind.”

“Of course I’m fucking not, Draco!” Harry shouted, storming up to Draco and spinning him around to face him. They were the same height, but Harry felt like he was looming over Draco at that moment. “I _killed_ a man, I-”

Something snapped in the trees around them, and Harry and Draco instantly had their wands drawn. Even when they argued or fought, the threat of Inferi always brought them back together. 

When the first one appeared, Harry was sure that it was Bellatrix. Then he thought she was the second, and then the third. But she was none of them - they were impossible to tell apart because the curse on them made their bodies rot at an accelerated rate until they were deemed as looking far from human. 

Harry shook his head. Bellatrix was not there, but even if she was, Harry could beat her. 

“Incendio!”

They both cast the spells at the same time, trying to drive the Inferi back. The magic and the shouting had attracted a lot of them, though, because they were coming from all directions.

Harry went one way and Draco went the other, trying to cover all of the space. When Harry cleared his path, he turned round to help Draco, and in his shock he nearly snapped his wand in half.

Draco was battling several Inferi in front of him, fighting them with a confident pose and satisfied smile, but a lone Inferius at the treeline was bolting towards him at alarming speed.

It was too close for Harry to burn it without hurting Draco, so Harry did the only other thing he could think to do - he ran towards it. Harry collided with it just as it was about to bite down on Draco’s shoulder, and they went tumbling to the ground. The Inferius was trying desperately to bite and claw at Harry, but Harry was just managing to hold it down and away from him. 

Draco was there in an instant, throwing his knife into the skull of the Inferius. It’s movements slowed down dramatically, but it was still twitching, not quite dead. Draco growled and stepped on the knife handle, digging it deeper into the Inferius’ head. Its movements halted, and when they moved away from the body Draco set it alight.

“You fucking idiot,” Draco said lightly, checking Harry over for injury. “Why would you jump on an Inferius like that?”

“It was the only way to save you,” Harry murmured, spinning his wand with his fingers. “It was going to bite you, and I didn’t want you to end up like...I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, even if you are mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you, Harry,” Draco said seriously, grabbing hold of Harry’s wand to stop him spinning it. “I’m mad at myself. You killed a man, and not just to help him - you did it to save us. You killed a man, accepting what the guilt would do to you - what the guilt _is_ doing to you. I don’t know if I could ever find the strength to do that.”

“You’d be amazed to know how strong you are, Draco,” Harry said, gesturing to the burning bodies beside them. “But I can’t do this without you. I need you with me to keep me strong, otherwise I’m a wreck.”

Draco leaned in towards Harry, kissing his forehead gently. It felt odd but pleasant, and made Harry feel very safe and loved.

“I’ll be with you, Harry. I promise.”

***

“Crucio!”

Harry ducked as a beam of red light headed towards him, narrowly avoiding hitting him.

“Stupefy,” he cast, pointing his wand over his shoulder as he ran.

There was no point trying to be quiet or avoid using magic now - the Death Eater chasing them didn’t seem to care that he was doing two of the biggest things that attracted Inferi. 

“Cruci-!”

“Petrificus Totalus!” Draco cast, and his spell hit the Death Eater head on. He collapsed to the ground, and Draco hurried to examine him. “Rookwood.” Draco spat the name venomously. “He’s high up in the rankings; we should take him with us.”

Draco had a dark look on his face, and if it had been anyone else, Harry would have let them go. But as it was, Rookwood was too important to free without getting information out of him first.

“There’s a bird watching hut over there,” Harry said, pointing over to a clearing in the woods where there was a small hut up a staircase. “Is it big enough?”

“It’s perfect,” Draco answered with a cruel smile directed at Rookwood. “I can Ward the bottom of the staircase as well as the door. Let’s go; that spellwork will have attracted the Inferi.”

Harry nodded, and cast a Levitation Charm over Rookwood so he could float him over to the hut. Draco was close behind him, keeping watch. 

Draco set Wards at the bottom of the staircase and on the hut door, before turning his wand on Rookwood.

“Bind his arms, Harry,” Draco said coldly, and Harry knew that Draco needed to take charge on this. “And take his wand.”

Harry complied, allowing magical rope to fly from his wand and wrap around Rookwood’s arms. When it was done, Draco released the Body-Bind Curse which immediately prompted Rookwood to start writhing against his bindings.

“You’ll pay for this,” Rookwood snarled. Draco lifted the Levitation spell, which sent Rookwood crashing to the floor.

Draco’s eyes flashed with rage as he watched Rookwood struggling on the ground. He raised his wand over the man. “Crucio!”

“Draco!” Harry exclaimed, shoving Draco’s wand hand away from Rookwood as the Death Eater screamed in pain. “You can’t-!”

“I can do what I like to scum like him,” Draco spat, looking sharply at Rookwood when the man began laughing.

“Very good, young Malfoy,” Rookwood drawled. He pursed his lips and spat on the floor. “Your aunt must have taught you well; she made your mother scream so prettily.”

“Crucio,” Draco cast again, causing Rookwood’s words to drift into screaming again. That time Harry let it happen; he couldn’t abide people mocking someone’s dead mother.

“Now,” Draco hissed, dropping to his knees and pulling Rookwood’s head up by his hair, “you are going to tell me everything you know about Hogsmeade.”

“Planning a little visit, are you?” Rookwood queried, plastering a false smile onto his face. He groaned when Draco tugged at his hair sharply. “What makes you think I’ll tell a little brat like you?”

Draco cast the _Cruciatus_ again, and when he had finished Rookwood was left gasping for breath. 

Part of Harry wanted to jump in and help Draco out, but he knew Draco wanted to do this on his own. He had so many times declared Harry to be brave and strong, but Draco longed to feel like that, too. And Rookwood was a Death Eater who had hurt and most likely killed countless innocent people, so Draco torturing him was really not a bad thing.

“You’ll never get into Hogsmeade,” Rookwood snarled, arching his back as he struggled against the pain. “You’ll die just trying to get close.”

“Why?” Draco leaned into Rookwood so their faces were inches apart, venom flashing in both of their eyes. 

“There’s Inferi all around the perimeter for one thing,” Rookwood said, attempting to lean back from Draco but to no avail. “And Death Eaters have control of the village.”

“Is the Dark Lord there?” Draco questioned, tugging on Rookwood’s hair again.

“Are you stupid? Of course he isn’t,” Rookwood exclaimed. “The Dark Lord is doing important duties _elsewhere_.”

“Like out of the country without Inferi interrupting him?” Harry couldn’t help but add.

Rookwood considered Harry properly for the first time. “If you’re headed to Hogsmeade, I hope the Inferi don’t get you first, Potter. I know plenty of people who would love to get their hands on you.”

“Don’t you talk to him,” Draco growled, hauling Rookwood up by his shirt and slamming him against the wall by the door.

“Or else what?” Rookwood mocked. “You’d both go down well in Hogsmeade, actually. We haven’t seen a woman in months, and pretty boys like you would-”

Harry never found out what Rookwood had been about to say - admittedly, he was very confident about what Rookwood had been getting at - but the man never got to finish his sentence because he had trailed off in alarm when Draco pulled the door open.

Harry found his feet glued to the spot as Draco pulled a struggling and screaming Rookwood towards the stairs. Seconds later, Draco returned alone while Rookwood’s screams and the growling of the Inferi got louder. 

“He won’t be a problem anymore,” Draco said, dusting off his hands. 

A gruesome, Inferi related death may have been a bit too cruel, but mainly Rookwood had got what he deserved. He knew Draco’s actions would hit him later on, but it was best to take Draco as he was in the moment. He could comfort Draco later - when he needed it.

“So Hogsmeade will be hard to get into,” Harry summarised, frowning at Draco. “The magic inside must have attracted the biggest group of Inferi.”

“We’ll find a way around it; we always do,” Draco stated with a shrug. “If we get there.”

“We will - eventually,” Harry corrected. He smiled at Draco warmly, taking a seat on the floor and patting the spot next to him to invite Draco to join him. “We can survey the area, try and find a way round.”

They had a mission to do, and though they wouldn’t be able to do it quickly or easily, they would still do it. But for now, they needed to survive, and more importantly, they needed to live. Nothing was easy anymore, though, but Harry knew he could get through anything with Draco at his side.

“So Muggles use these huts to watch birds?” Draco asked conversationally as he sat beside Harry. Their fingers rested side-by-side, not quite touching.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “I never really had the patience for it.”

They sat in silence for not even a minute before Draco broke it.

“Yeah, this is pretty boring,” Draco agreed. “There aren’t even any birds.”

“Ready to get back out there then?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They got to their feet, brandishing their wands as they pushed the door to the hut open.

A group of Inferi were at the bottom of the stairs waiting for them, a freshly dead Rookwood amongst them.

“I’m taking the Wards down,” Draco warned him. 

Harry was ready for it, aiming his wand down the stairs. He looked into the rotting faces, most of which were dripping in Rookwood’s blood, and began casting the only spell that mattered anymore.

“Incendio!”

***

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcome here or at H/D Remix Fest on [LiveJournal](http://hd-remix.livejournal.com/76131.html).


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